A Broken Promise
by Arabella Stange
Summary: Second in a series of events through Sirius' eyes. Something terrible has happened, something that will change the course of Sirius' life forever. Perhaps it hadn't been such a good idea after all... Sequel to A Good Idea
1. The Beginning

_A Broken Promise_

_October 31, 1988_

Sirius used to love the snow, everything about it. Loved how white and pristine everything was after that first snow fall, before anyone had had a chance to ruin it. Loved the odd way the snow reflected light so that the ground glowed as if it was itself a star. Everything was perfect when it snowed, everything serene. Even Grimauld Place had looked more like a home when it snowed.

October was early for snow; usually people were still walking about in their fall jackets, still able to ignore the icy wind that threatened to bring winter to them. But now there was no denying the cold. The snow had blanketed the ground, like a soft linen sheet that had fallen over Britain. It was everywhere: on the sidewalks, on the rooftops, in people's hair. Everyone kept their heads down as they walked, bracing themselves against the cold and wind and flakes that stuck to their eyelashes and coats, only to melt again in an instant. They grumbled to themselves, their eyes on the ground, about the weather, about how it was far too early to have to worry about winter robes and cloaks, it was only Halloween for God's sake.

Not Sirius. He had nothing to complain about, not the ice, not the wind, and most certainly not the snow. He kept his head high as he walked the streets, a haunting tune leaving his lips (as was only appropriate for All Hallows Eve), letting the snow pile around his collar and on the tips of his bangs, making it seem like his hair was made of hundreds of tiny icicles. Why should he be unhappy? As far as he knew things were going better for him than they had in months. No one he knew had died in over 5 weeks; more members were trickling into the Order with new information and were all eager to help the cause; and, most importantly, all of his closest friends were safe. Remus was living under the heavily guarded roof of Order Headquarters, while James and Lily were still living happily in their big white house on Something-or-other Street, their son Harry a few months over a year old. Sirius smiled at the thought. Peter, despite his usually cowardice, appeared to have taken his role as Secret Keeper very seriously, as no one had seen hide nor hair of him since August.

Sirius' gaze drifted up to the sky above him, specked with white. Three young girls passed him on the sidewalk, heads bowed against the icy wind. They were giggling and looking back at him with their big innocent eyes, their hair blowing in the wind. Sirius raised his hand and wiggled his fingers at them, letting out a bark of laughter. 'I still got it.' He thought merrily as he heard their sighs.

The Leaky Cauldron, now not more than a street away, appeared to be booming. Sirius could here shouts and laughter issuing from the door even from where he stood. Beer mugs were clanking and chairs were sliding noisily against the floor. He imagined that somewhere in the back there was a pretty woman, waiting for someone to join her in a Butterbeer. He chuckled, who was he kidding? The only woman that would be there was McGonagall, and she would hardly have time for his idle chatter. She would hand him Dumbledore's oh-so-important letter and be on her way, leaving him alone once again. He sighed, watching as his breath froze in front of him, and then was carried on the wind up to the sky and out of sight.

He made his way closer and the shouting got louder, the music more raucous, people on the street were glancing toward the doorway as they walked past.

Oh, The Leaky Cauldron was booming all right, but it quickly occurred to him that there was something wrong about the sound. As Sirius stood outside the door he could hear that it was not sounds of jolly Halloween-tide partying that were drifting out into the streets. Passersby were not glancing that way in innocent wonderment, but in confusion and worry. In fact the people inside the pub sounded downright hysterical. He could hear now that there was no music at all, just the sound of tens of people shouting in different tones. He hesitated, his hand on the door handle, listening for any snippet of conversation that he could get. Several men were yelling all at once, and every so often someone would shout something like, "I don't understand! What happened to them?" or, "He went there _Himself_? Where is he now?"

Sirius froze like that, arm outstretched, listening closely to the angry voices, but not daring to go inside. Mist stopped forming at his mouth as he forgot to breath, instead focusing all of his efforts on not panicking.

A familiar fear had taken over his body as he listened to the people's shouting, trying with all his might to understand what they were all talking about. But nothing was making sense, someone had died, that much was certain, but who? Did he know them? Were they important? He could feel his hand shaking on the door knob, making a horrible rattling noise that echoed inside his head like it was a dark cave.

When Sirius finally remembered to breath he had nearly fainted from lack of oxygen. The things around him kept fading in and out of focus, the noise from the pub sliding in and then away. Then he heard it, the word he had been praying not to hear, someone had shouted it: James.

Sirius flung the door open, slamming it on the inside wall loud enough to silence the entire pub. Everyone stared at him, many of them standing, mugs in hand, chests heaving up and down as they caught their breath. The woman at the bar was being comforted by a customer, but even she has stopped her sobbing and was now looking up at him, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

Then there was McGonagall, looking strange in the middle of it all, sitting with her hands clutching a sealed letter, hat perched perfectly on her head. She was the only one who seemed calm, the only one who didn't look like she'd been shouting a moment before. She looked at him with sad eyes, the corners of her mouth bent down slightly in an unhappy frown. She seemed unable to speak for several moments, then, finally she said, "Sirius, please, come sit down."

Sirius could feel himself shaking. But he nodded slowly and closed the door behind him, then went to sit in the chair she had indicated.

"So," he said quietly, "What's all the hubbub about Minerva?" He hoped he sounded cheerful.

"Sirius," said McGonagall slowly, carefully, pushing the letter toward him.

"No, don't," Sirius warned, "Don't call me that Minerva. You always call me that when something bad has happened."

"Sirius."

"No. You called me that when you found out I'd hung Snape from a tree. You called me that when you told me my brother was dead. Don't."

"Sirius… please."

Sirius fought to take in breath, slowly shaking his head, "Don't do this to me Minerva. Don't tell me something's gone wrong."

McGonagall picked up the letter and held it out to him. He took it but refused to open it. She looked at him for a long while, trying to get control of herself. She was taking deep breaths and clasping her hands together to keep them from shaking. Sirius could see her knuckles turn white as she squeezed them. All at once she brought her hands to her face and started sobbing.

"Oh Sirius," she cried, her voice weak against the force of her sobs. "I can't believe what's happened. I don't understand how it_ could_ have happened. Sirius, it's awful!" she leaned forward, her hands shaking over her mouth and eyes.

Sirius was mortified, too scared to move. Minerva had never lost it like this once since he'd known her. She'd never lost it at all. She was always composed and always in control, but not here. Here she was more like a small child in need of comfort. But he couldn't comfort her, he couldn't even breath. He didn't want to hear whatever horrible thing that was making this proud woman sob so openly. He wanted to get up and run for the door, out into the snow, where it was safe.

People around them were staring at McGonagall with pity in their eyes, but none of them moved to help her anymore than Sirius did. Everyone just sat there, waiting for her to say what they all already knew anyway, waiting for her to tell the poor soul sitting across from her, who had no idea.

"Minerva," Sirius said finally. He swallowed, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat, "Minerva what- what's happened? Is it- is it Peter? Is he missing or something? What?" McGonagall gestured toward the letter, shaking her head. Sirius nearly threw up, "Minerva, please. _Please tell me it's not James._"

"Sirius, just read the letter!" McGonagall cried, running her hands through her hair.

"No!" Sirius leaned forward and stared intently at her, "Minerva, god Minerva, please. Please tell me he's alright. Tell me nothing's happened to him!"

She looked up at him then, eyes wide with fear, and simply shook her head.

"DON'T LIE!" he screamed, pulling his wand out of his cloak and pointing it at her, his hand shook as he held it, the tip pointed at her face. Through the tears in his eyes Sirius could see that she was terrified, but all she could do was cry more than ever before.

"I wouldn't lie to you Sirius," she sobbed.

"NO!" He couldn't take it. His brain couldn't contain that kind of information. James Potter, dead? The thought of it kept slipping in and out of his mind, each time making him sway dangerously to one side or the other. He kept screaming at McGonagall that it wasn't true and that she shouldn't lie about those things. He kept shaking his wand in her face, hoping that maybe, out of fear, she would tell the truth.

But then there were people on him, arms grabbing him from all sides, forcing the wand out of his hands and pushing him to the ground. He fought them, kicking and biting them, telling them to let him go the slimy bastards, he had to get to James before it was too late. But they yelled over him, saying the most terrible things. James Potter was dead, they said, and there was nothing he could do to help him now. Some of them even knew his name and kept telling him that everything would be alright. But it wasn't going to be alright, Sirius knew that. It wasn't alright as long as James was lying out there alone, waiting for someone to take him out of the snow.

After a while Sirius was too weak to fight the hoard of people anymore and sunk down to the floor, laying his head on his knees. Tears were still pouring out of him and his shoulders shook with trying to control them. He heard the people cautiously backing away, still saying the horrible things about James. There were footsteps in front of him and suddenly everything was silent.

"I'm so sorry Sirius," McGonagall said, coming nearer to him and laying a shaking hand on his shoulder. "We honestly don't know what happened. You didn't tell anyone. You wouldn't, would you Sirius?"

Sirius remembered. He hadn't told anyone that Peter had become the Potters Secret Keeper; everyone still thought that _he _was. He looked up at McGonagall, eyes shifting uncertainly, at a complete loss for what to say.

"Would you Sirius?"

"N-no," he stuttered, "Never."

McGonagall frowned for only a second, uncertainty scrawled across her face, before she smiled a sad smile at him and nodded her head. "I know you wouldn't Sirius, I… I know you wouldn't."

She held him then, her thin arms wrapping around him and engulfing him in the folds of her robes. She told him over and over how sorry she was, how she knew what James meant to him. She tried so hard to comfort him. Sirius listened to what she said, but couldn't understand why she was saying it. It was James who had been killed, not him. Why was he the one being consoled? Why were all these people standing around him, staring with such pity in their eyes? He didn't want to be pitied, he didn't deserve it. It was James who ought to be pitied. It was Lily and Harry who ought to be consoled. He pulled away from McGonagall's embrace.

_Lily and Harry._

"Minerva," he said, trying to ignore the miserable stares all around him, "What happened to Lily? Tell me what happened to Harry and Lily."

McGonagall couldn't look at him. Her tears traced rivers down the wrinkles in her face, her eyes were all red with crying, and she couldn't look at him. "It's- it's all in the Dumbledore's letter, Sirius. The letter will tell you-."

"No, I want you to tell me," Sirius took her by the shoulders and shook her, forcing her to meet his eyes, "I want to hear you say it, Minerva. What happened to Lily and Harry?"

"Lily… is gone," Minerva said, sinking to the floor as if all the strength had gone out of her with that sentence. "She died protecting her son."

Sirius choked back more tears that were swelling up behind his eyes. He forced himself not to think about it, forced himself to be angry instead of sad. "And Harry," he snapped, "what about Harry?"

"Oh Sirius, it's all very complicated."

Again he shook the old woman, the rage growing in him, masking the sorrow. "Goddammit, Minerva, just tell me what happened to my god son!"

The crowd began to step forward again, looking concerned more for McGonagall than for him now. One man put his hand on his shoulder. Sirius growled at him.

McGonagall used the interruption to wriggle free from his grasp, "Sirius," she pleaded, "Sirius, please calm down for just a moment. I know how hard this is, I know how you must be feeling…Harry is safe, Sirius. Dumbledore has sent Hagrid to take him from the house."

"He's alive?" Sirius' heart skipped a beat.

"By some miracle, yes. He'll be safe with Hagrid."

"Hagrid?" Sirius shook his head. Every feeling but anger was gone from him now. He was numb; whatever pain he was supposed to be feeling could be kept for later. "Why is Hagrid getting him? Why didn't Dumbledore send for me?"

"Because, Sirius, he knew you would be in no condition to go there now..."

"What?" Sirius pushed McGonagall away and stood up. She looked helpless as he stared down at her, like a giant looming over a child. His hands and his voice shook with rage as he told her, "He is _my _family, Minerva. You can tell Dumbledore that if anyone takes Harry from that house it's going to be _me_."

With that he turned around and left the bar, leaving McGonagall to call desperately after him before he disappeared into the snow.


	2. The End

There was no one outside James' house when Sirius got there. He had nearly crashed his motorbike into the snow, for he found it impossible to watch where he was going. That would have meant taking his eyes off of the steaming pile of wood and stone that had once been the Potters' house.

Sirius collapsed to his knees the moment he touched ground. For what seemed like ages he stared at the house, unable to move, to think or even to breath. It seemed absurd to him that there was no one there. Here was the site of the most terrible thing that he could ever imagine happening, and there was no one around to weep over it but him. Somewhere in the more sensible part of his brain he thought that there must have been some spell put on it, one that would make the house look normal to all the muggles in the neighborhood. The insensible part of him was furious that there was no one there to mourn his best friend.

With all his being Sirius wanted to scream. He wanted to scream loud enough to get everyone out of their homes, to let everyone know that something horrible had happened, something unnecessary, something unfair. Something that was entirely his fault.

He would have screamed. Kneeling there in the snow, he would have screamed for the loss James, for Lily, and for their orphaned son. But his insides were frozen. The only sound he could make was a pathetic, desperate cry that nobody heard but him, a cry that left him cold and disgusted.

A shadow moved among the rubble and Sirius felt his heart stop. _James?_ He thought, but only for a moment, before he remembered that James had left him long before he had even known about it.

The figure moved slowly, swaying from side to side, and grunting as it made its way through the debris. Sirius remembered what Minerva had told him at the pub. It was Hagrid. He carried in his arms a small bundle of cloth. He was staring down at it with a look of infinite sadness and regret.

When he realized Sirius was there, Hagrid stopped in his tracks. "S-Sirius," he stuttered, "is tha' you?"

Sirius couldn't find the strength in him to even nod his head. A low, guttural sound flew out of him, a growl, a whimper.

"Oh, Sirius, thank God you're here." Hagrid rushed to him, pressing the bundle tight to his chest. He collapsed in the snow in front of Sirius, but even on his knees he was over six feet tall. "Oh, Sirius," he croaked, tears streaming down his cheeks and into his beard, "I'm so sorry. I- I don't even know what ter say."

It took every ounce of strength Sirius had to lift his arms, beckoning for Hagrid to give him the bundle he held so tightly. For a moment Hagrid hesitated, uncertain, then he handed over the child. Sirius willed his hands not to shake but they wouldn't listen. He cradled the baby in trembling arms, and looked down at his god son in wonderment and fear.

Harry wasn't crying. Just like the day when Sirius had first met him, the boy looked up with curiosity, with determination, but never with an ounce of fear. Underneath his thin wisps of black hair Sirius could see a scar on his forehead. It was red and angry looking, a wound in the shape of a lightning bolt.

"What happened here?" Sirius heard himself ask.

"I don't rightly know," Hagrid wiped the tears from his face, still staring sadly down at Harry. "All I know is what Dumbledore knows. You-Know-Who came here and attacked James and Lily…" he paused, eyes wide, "He- he killed 'em, Sirius."

"I know." Sirius whispered. Again, he fought the urge to scream.

"Dumbledore thinks that You-Know-Who tried to kill Harry too, but he couldn't."

Sirius started, "He couldn't? What do you mean he couldn't?"

Hagrid shook his head, "Nobody knows yet what really happened. Dumbledore reckons that He tried to kill Harry, but something went wrong, like, the spell backfired or something."

Sirius' eyes widened as he stared down at Harry, "Backfired?"

"And now people are saying You-Know-Who is gone, Sirius. People are saying that he died trying to kill Harry."

"Who? Who's saying this? Is Dumbledore saying this?"

"Dumbledore doesn't know yet. But I think he doubts it."

Sirius nodded, "He's right. It's too easy. Voldemort doesn't just die because of…a baby."

Sirius saw Hagrid twitch openly at the sound of Voldemort's name, but he didn't care. He pressed Harry close to him lowered his head. "It's alright now, Harry. I've got you."

He couldn't help but think of the first night he'd seen Harry. There in James' house, where he had sat for so long trying to get up the courage to tell James his stupid little plan. He remembered staring at Harry, and feeling comforted by the child. Then he had represented hope for the future, then he had given Sirius the courage to do what he believed was right. Now, he was a scarred memory of what had been, what could have been. He was still the beautiful, perfect child that Sirius remembered, but his face, his name, his whole being had been tainted by the terrible tragedy that had befallen him. Sirius could hardly stand the sight of Harry, for he reminded him of James, but at the same time he couldn't look away. The boy's green eyes watched him searchingly, looking for the reason for all the sadness in his expression.

"I've got you now, Harry. No one will hurt you, not while I'm here to protect you."

"Er-Sirius?" Hagrid said, rubbing his hands together, his eyes on the ground, "Dumbledore ordered me ter take Harry away from 'ere."

A growl erupted from somewhere deep within Sirius. He looked up and held the boy still tighter to him. "That's what McGonagall said. You know I can't let you do it, Hagrid. Harry is my god son. The only place he should be is with me."

Hagrid shook his head, "Dumbledore said it's not safe for Harry in the wizarding world. He said Harry's got to be with muggles; in a place no one can hurt him."

"Being among muggles isn't going to save Harry from Voldemort," Sirius' voice shook. "It didn't save James and Lily."

"I know Sirius, but Dumbledore said-."

"I don't give a_ fuck_ what Dumbledore said!" Sirius snapped, "Harry belongs with me!"

Hagrid let his arms fall limp at his sides, still shaking his head. "Look, Sirius. I'm sorry about what's happened, sorrier than ya could ever know. If there was anything I could do ter help ya, blimey you know I'd do it in a heartbeat. Thing is, I got orders from Dumbledore that Harry is to be taken to his Aunt and Uncle's, and I ain't leavin' here until you give 'im ter me."

Sirius closed his eyes, his face suddenly contorted with pain. A few tears fell from his eyes onto Harry's blanket. "Harry is all that's left of James," he muttered through trembling lips.

"I know. I'm so sorry, Sirius."

Finally, after staring at the boy for a long moment, taking in every detail of his face and making sure he would never forget it, Sirius handed Harry over to Hagrid. With his hands free, Sirius reached inside his robe and pulled out the letter he'd been given from Dumbledore. _If Hagrid has orders, _he thought hopefully,_ maybe there's something I can do too._

But the letter contained nothing to do with helping anyone but Hagrid. _I know this will be difficult for you, Sirius, _the letter read, _but I need you to let Hagrid take Harry to Lily's sister's house in Surry. He will be safer there than he would be with you, or anyone else. Also, if you can see it in your heart to allow Hagrid to use your motorbike for the journey, it would make traveling to Petunia's a lot easier for him…_

"Hagrid," Sirius said, catching the giant as he was picking his leather bag out of the snow and preparing to leave, "Please…please take my motorbike. You'll get to Surry faster that way."

Hagrid looked stunned, "Are you sure, Sirius? It's your motorbike-."

"It's just a stupid bike," Sirius said, feeling the tears welling up behind his eyes again, "It isn't important. Please take it, I won't – I won't need it anymore."

Hagrid nodded, his eyes a little wet. He mounted the bike, placing Harry in his bag and holding him close with one arm. "Thank you, Sirius. I'll be sure to tell Dumbledore of your kindness."

Sirius barked a sob. He wanted to say something profound, something meaningful, but all he could think of was, "Please, Hagrid, please just make sure they take good care of my god son."

"Rest easy. He's in good hands."

With that, the bike took off down the snow covered street. When it reached the end of the road it took off into the sky, barely skimming the top of a house in front of it.

Sirius sat there on his knees for sometime after Hagrid was gone, staring up at the house and waiting for the snow to seep through his pants and numb him from the waist down. Pristine white snowflakes fell all around him, making beautiful, shining hills that covered the rubble of James' former house. No matter how much snow fell, all Sirius could see was blood and smoke and death.

It seemed like hours, or perhaps it was hours, before anyone came down that part of the street. All at once Sirius heard the crunching of snow underneath someone's feet and he started. He looked around him and saw that a man was making his way towards him, moving slowly, carefully down the icy street. It was a few moments before the man was close enough for Sirius to recognize who he was.

It was only when Remus was within a few feet of Sirius that he seemed to realize he was there. Sirius searched his friend's face carefully for a sign of what to do, what to say. In Remus' eyes he could see mostly fear and panic, but underneath that he found great sadness and, strangely, anger.

Remus stopped a few feet away and stared at him, his fists clenched and his jaw tight. "How could this have happened?" he snapped suddenly.

Sirius closed his eyes and shook his head. "I…god I don't know, Remus. I don't know."

Remus nodded. "No, of course not. Silly of me to expect you to know how everything could have gone so horribly wrong."

"Remus," Sirius couldn't keep himself from crying, no matter how hard he tried. "Remus, I wish I could tell you," he said. "I wish I knew. It's all a mistake, some horrible mistake. I don't know how it happened." He reached a hand out to Remus, beckoned him to come closer to him, to sit with him.

Remus stared at Sirius outstretched hand, but didn't move. "This is just what James was worried about, isn't it?" he said through his teeth. "He was worried someone would betray him, and Voldemort would find out where he was."

Sirius nodded. He remembered James' hesitation, his initial unwillingness to make Peter his Secret Keeper. For a moment he had even thought Sirius was trying to trick him into giving his Secret to a traitor. The thought made Sirius just as sick now as it had that night.

"I remember he suspected you, Sirius." Remus continued, jolting Sirius out of his thoughts. "The night that you punched him. You said it was because he'd accused you of trying to betray him."

Sirius looked at Remus and saw that his eyes were cold and horribly unforgiving. He had never seen such a look of hatred on his face before.

"James was never wrong about that sort of thing, was he Sirius? James always knew when someone was trying to deceive him."

Sirius stopped crying and looked Remus slowly up and down, trying to understand his words. "Moony, what are you trying to say?"

"Was he right to suspect you, Sirius? Was he right about you? "

"Remus, what are you talking about?"

"Were you really his friend, Sirius? Or was he right not to have trusted you? Was he _right_, Sirius? WAS HE _RIGHT_?"

Remus moved toward him, pulling out his wand and pointing it at him. There was a fiery hatred in his eyes that scared Sirius more than any spell ever could.

"REMUS!?" he screamed, when they were just inches apart. Sirius covered his face with his arms, never thinking for a second to pull out his own wand.

He didn't have to. Remus stood over him, breathing heavily, all the while pointing his wand at him but never able to bring himself to say the words. After a few moments of silence Sirius saw drops of water fall into the snow and looked up to find that Remus was crying.

"Did you do this, Sirius?" he whispered, his voice suddenly quiet and hoarse. "I have to know. Did you do this to James and Lily?"

Sirius shook his head furiously, slowly lowering his arms and letting them fall, trembling, onto his lap. "No, Remus…no. You have to believe me. I could never do this to James. I _loved _James.

Remus nodded, but his wand never moved. "I loved James too, Sirius. The difference is I wasn't his Secret Keeper. You, Sirius, you were. So tell me, what did you do?"

"No," was all Sirius could think to say. He fell onto his forearms and let himself sink into the snow. "No, no, no, no, no."

Remus kneeled in front of him. Sirius twitched, expecting to be hit with a spell, or a fist, but instead Remus laid a hand gently on his shoulder. Sirius could feel him shaking.

"Sirius," he said after a few moments, "Everyone suspects you. I've tried to defend you but there is no way to prove…"

"I didn't do it, Remus. I would never betray James. I would have died before I betrayed him."

Remus sighed, "I know. I knew you could never do that to him…to _them_. I know. But no one else believes that, Sirius. McGonagall says nothing against you, but I know even she doubts your innocence. The entire Order is convinced."

Sirius brought himself to Remus' level, wiping his tears away angrily, his teeth clenched. "_Convinced_? Convinced that I killed my best friend?"

"Sirius…you were his Secret Keeper."

"What is Dumbledore saying? Does Dumbledore believe I'm innocent?"

"I don't know," Remus shook his head, putting his wand away and distractedly brushing snow off of his robes. "He hasn't said what he thinks. When I saw him, back at headquarters, he was looking very grave, but he said nothing about you."

Sirius nodded, then something occurred to him. He reached in his pocket for Dumbledor's letter. He found it and thrust it at Remus. "There," he said, "Dumbledore sent me that! He sent me a letter telling me I had to give Harry to Hagrid."

Remus read the letter over, then stared at it, quietly pondering.

"Well, Remus? Would he have sent me that letter if he thought I was guilty of murder? Wouldn't he have figured I would have tried to kill Harry too?"

Remus nodded. "That does make sense. If he thought Harry's life was in danger then he would have sent people to stop you, he would have come here himself."

Sirius threw up his arms, "Yes! See, Remus, Dumbledore must know I'm innocent!"

"But he didn't say anything. Sirius, he was with the entire Order not an hour ago. They were all planning how to find you so they could send you to Azkaban. He heard what they were saying and didn't stop them. He didn't say anything in your favor."

Sirius' face fell. He brought his eyes to the ground and ran a trembling hand through his hair.

Both men were silent for a few moments. Remus read the letter over again, then handed it back to Sirius with a sigh. "He doesn't have any way to prove that you're innocent. All he has is your word and his belief. Well," he added, with a sad smile, "his and my belief. That wouldn't be enough to convince half the Order, let alone the courts at Azkaban."

"But then…"Sirius looked desperately around them, as if somewhere in the snow he would find the answer to his problems, "what am I supposed to do?"

Remus closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head. Then he laid his hand on Sirius' arm and leaned in, looking him straight in the eye. "You should go, Sirius, you should run. Run and hide and don't tell anyone where you are until Dumbledore and I can prove to everyone that you did not do this."

"Run? Remus, I don't want to run! I can prove my own innocence!"

"What makes you think you'll have the chance?" Remus squeezed his arm. "You know how the Court deals with Death Eaters; you may not even be allowed a trial. They'll lock you up, Sirius, and they'll never let you out."

Remus' expression was stern; his grip on Sirius' arm was tight. Looking at him, Sirius could not help but appreciate his friend's strength. He knew Remus was right- Remus was _always_ right.

Sirius looked away from him, down the street, where he imagined that any minute a group of his former friends would appear to take him away to Azkaban. Or perhaps they wouldn't even bother with prison. Perhaps they would kill him where he sat, frozen and helpless in the snow.

"I have to go," he said finally.

Remus nodded, a sigh of relief leaving his lips, "I had hoped you would leave willingly. I really didn't want to fight you on this one." He smiled a little, but Sirius could see he was still fighting back tears.

Sirius shook his head, "No, Moony, I'm tired of fighting. I'll go."

The two men stood up together, leaning on one another for support. They stared up at James' house, the pile of snow-covered debris. They stood like that for a long while, thinking together, breathing together, before Sirius said, "I'll send you a message when I'm safe."

Remus nodded. Sirius turned to leave, but Remus grabbed him by the shoulder, holding him in his place. "And you will explain this to me, wont you? In your message, you'll tell me what happened?"

"Remus, I don't know what happened."

"Please, Sirius. I'm not asking you to tell me now. Just…get your thoughts together, find a place to hide, and you can tell me later."

Sighing, Sirius nodded. He wasn't sure he would be able to bring himself to tell Remus the truth: that he hadn't been James' secret keeper, and that he had not sold him to Voldemort. That would mean reminding himself of his own cowardice; that would mean admitting that it was his idea, his great plan, that had put James and his family in danger. He didn't know if he could do that.

He would have liked to give Remus a smile before he Disaparated, but he couldn't seem to bring his face to move that way. Instead he could only stare at him, eyes swimming for too many reasons, and give him one final nod. He did not look back at James' house. That he could not stand to do. He stood still for a moment, contemplating, then, without hesitation, he turned on the spot and was gone.


End file.
